The Hidden Chronicles: Legacy
by ATightropeToTheWords
Summary: Zia has been missing for 11 years. Carter, who was crippled in the battle with Apophis, has given up all hope of finding her. But when a new trainee comes along with the surname "Rashid", and a mysterious past, a web of secrets will be brought to light...
1. Prologue

"Damn it, Carter!" Zia shouted, glaring at her boyfriend of three years. He glared back, his eyes hard. In the back of her mind, she winced. It caused her almost physical pain to see him look at her like that. Even more pain than she was already in...

"What did I do?" Carter demanded angrily. "You're the one who randomly started crying and yelling at me! Tell me what the Hell I did wrong."

She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around her torso, hugging herself.

"I..." she scrambled to find the words to explain her actions. She felt like such an awful person. But she hadn't been able to control herself. Her emotions had taken over her: the dread, the sense of wrong-doing... The fear.

"What?" He demanded sharply. Zia winced for real this time, not just in her mind.

"I... I'm sorry, Carter," she whispered. His face softened, his eyes losing their steel.

"Zia-" he began, (tenderness clearly replacing anger) but quickly was cut off as Zia walked towards him and pressed her lips to his, gently.

She pulled back after a second. "I'm so sorry, Carter," she repeated. Before he could stop her, she turned and rushed out of the tent, one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach.

_...This was the last time Zia Ama Rashid was seen by anybody in Brooklyn House for a long time..._


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: *Walks in looking proud of myself* Hello, epical readers! This is my new story, which I am obsessing over. It's Zarter (as opposed to my usual Jarter...), and, even though Zia won't be in book one, she'll be mentioned a lot. Like, every single chapter. XD**

**This story is the first book of The Hidden Chronicles, which might last three books, but will definitely be two books.**

**ON WITH THE STORY!**

**Oh, but first:**

**Disclaimer: *Pouts* Fine. I'll freaking say it - I DON'T OWN THE KANE CHRONICLES! They belong the the amazing, infinitely-more talented Rick Riordan. (He's also a lot richer than me...) **

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><p>As anybody who has ever experienced something horrific could tell you, the memory never truly goes away. It stays with you for as long as you live - a constant reminder of pain and loss.<p>

29-year-old Carter Kane knew this all too well.

After all, my life is practically one horrific accident, he thought morbidly one rainy Saturday morning in Brooklyn House. He sat on the couch in the Great Room with his coffee cup in one hand and his staff leaning beside him. He brought that staff with him everywhere he went, ever since...  
>He shook his head almost imperceptibly and took a sip of his coffee, looking anywhere but his left leg. His eyes fell on the wall to his right.<p>

On it was a sort of shrine to his old trainees. There was a drawing of a penguin Felix has made when he was just ten. Beside it was a photo of Jaz, strumming on her guitar with her eyes closed, the summer sun making her hair look like gold. There was Sadie, at age 16, with her boyfriend, and now her husband, Sean. And below that was a photo of Alyssa and Julian (AKA, husband and wife, now) glaring at each other in a way that could only be described as adoringly.

He sighed wistfully. He remembered so clearly those blissful years after they had defeated the Serpent.

Months of laughter and games and friendship. After a while it was like they were all a family.

However, there were always... dampeners. Things that nobody else noticed but that made him feel like he was right back on that day in Egypt...

Carter grabbed his staff and, using it to steady himself, hobbled over to the window. It was hard to think that memories were all he had left of his 'family' now.

Jaz and Walt had been the first to go. They'd been dating for a while, but when Walt got news that his dad had passed away, he felt the need to go back home to Seattle to be there for his mom. Jaz had been heartbroken.

And then he had proposed to her. They left for Seattle engaged. Carter had been the best man at the wedding, four months later.

Once Jaz and Walt were gone, Brooklyn House felt emptier. It was hard to break the habit of listening to hear Jaz play guitar early in the morning when you're lying in bed. And Walt's strength and humor was sorely missed.

Sadie was the next to go. She got news that hers and Carter's maternal grandparents had passed away, and that Sadie had inherited the house. She hadn't wanted to leave Brooklyn House, but then she got offered a spot as a teacher at the London Nome (the 14 Nome).

So she'd been gone, too. This was a blow to Carter personally. He would never have admitted it, but with his sister gone, it felt like nothing was ever right. She visited often, though, fortunately.

Once, she visited on her birthday. Then Sean (her long-time boyfriend) proposed to her.

They were married three months later. Carter was, once again, the best man.

Sadie and Sean didn't visit much more after that.

And then Julian and Alyssa got married. This time, Felix was the best man. Luckily, they stayed at Brooklyn House for a year or so... Until Alyssa got news she was pregnant with twins.

They moved to North Carolina, bought a house, and settled down.

At this point, the little family of Brooklyn House was clearly falling apart. One by one, people left for the nomes of their hometown. Cleo moved to Rio De Janeiro, and Felix went after her. They were currently engaged to be married.

And Carter would probably be the best man.

These days, Carter was the only one left from the old days of Brooklyn House. He had only three trainees, currently: 12-year-old twin sisters, and a college-aged boy.

And then he smiled slightly, remembering one person who was still around from the good old days. A certain cat goddess with a penchant for 'borrowing' expensive cars. At least she has stayed at Brooklyn House, despite the fact she wasn't needed as much as she used to be.

Carter wondered if she just pitied him and his loneliness. Then he shook his head. No, of course that wasn't it. She loved him, like a mother.

He sighed and leaned against the window, not just to steady himself physically, but also emotionally.

Sure, he'd been offered jobs at other nomes. Even the 1st Nome had offered him a job as an instructor in Combat Magic.

But he'd turned them down, practically spitting in their eye. It seemed like an insult from them. They knew of his... Disability. They knew that because of it, he would never be able to properly use Combat Magic again.

Carter crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

The city skyline of New York looked so familiar. A sight he had come to know as home.

He turned away. He grabbed his staff and, once again using it as a walking stick, made his way slowly back to the couch.

He had mastered the art of using his staff a long time ago. Ever since... His accident.

He winced. In his mind's eye, he saw it all again: a simple slash of a demon's blade to the back of his knee, and the nerves had been killed. His left leg had been declared officially handicapped. He couldn't move it. He couldn't feel it. It was like it wasn't even there.

He flopped down on the couch and laid his head back.

Useless. He felt so useless, all the time. He couldn't teach Combat Magic properly. He couldn't even walk without a stupid staff to steady him.

All because of one mistake.

He had been distracted. He'd made a mistake, and he hadn't been aware of all that was around him. His mind was only on the Serpent, as if there were no enemies but him. And the demon had snuck up on him.

You couldn't exactly blame him for being distracted, though. After all, his girlfriend, Zia Rashid, had only dropped off the face of the earth the day before the battle.

Disappeared. Gone. Nobody ever saw her again.

And the worst part?

She disappeared right after having a fight with Carter. 


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yo, my peeps :D HAPPY NEW YEAR, PEOPLE! This, I can honestly say, was the best year of my life. My life has turned around, for the better. And so I dedicate this chapter to my friends, who are like shining stars in the darkness:  
><strong>

**Animal Charmer 11, MuseGirlTheAuthor, I'mDifferent-GetOverIt, gingerroot15, booksonclouds, FlameTamer16, Musicismyblood, The Girl With Black Wings, and Broadway4eva. I love you, guys. :-)  
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**ON WITH THE CHAPTER!  
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><p><em>She stared at him with those mysterious amber eyes, her mouth parted ever-so-slightly, as if she were about to speak, but she couldn't decide how to say what she wanted to. <em>

_"I'm sorry," Carter choked out, salty tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry I said what I said all those years ago."_

_"Carter-"_

_"Come back to me, Zia. Please. I need you," he begged. _

_She gave him a look of such sad longing that he felt as if his heart were being smashed to pieces under a mallet. "I cannot, Carter. I am lost. Forever." _

_"No," he whispered. He began to tremble. "No, no, no you can't be lost... Please, Zia, please..."_  
><em><strong><br>**_"Carter?" Eva asked, poking him in the arm. "Are you okay?"

Carter snapped awake, his eyes wild, bloodshot, and full of anguish. Eva recoiled at the look on his face - as if somebody he loved had just died right before him.

"I'm fine," he muttered, struggling to sit up from the spot on the couch where he'd fallen asleep.

Late-afternoon sunshine spilling through the window of the Great Room nearly blinded him. The rain must've stopped while he was asleep.

"You don't look fine," Eva said matter-of-factly, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

"You look like you saw a ghost, or something."

"Saw a ghost," he repeated under his breath. "Yeah, something like that."

Eva studied his curiously, her big blue eyes worried. For a girl who almost always wore skirts, she had all the wisdom of a world-wary adult. "Do you want sleep medicine?" She suggested. "Or I might be able to make a potion that'll help you sleep... It'll only take a few minutes, if you'll wait."

Eva Casper reminded him so much of Jaz it was almost painful. She even looked like Jaz, with blond hair and blue eyes, although Jaz never put as much thought into her wardrobe as Eva delighted in doing. She was also a Healer, which was probably the main source of resemblance between them.

"I'm fine, Evvie," Carter told her, rubbing his eyes. "I just had a nightmare, is all. Besides, I shouldn't be sleeping at this time, anyway," he added, glancing at his watch. 6:23 P.M.

"Carter, it's fine for you to sleep. You look like you've barely slept in days. Besides, Michael and Bast can summon dinner for me and Sophie. Anyway, you had a nightmare?" Eva said this all so fast he could barely understand a word of it. She had a tendency to do that (as opposed to her twin sister, Sophie, who barely spoke at all). "I can give you a potion to keep those away, too, you know."

Carter was about to reject the offer, but the young girl looked so earnest and willing to help that he couldn't bring himself to.

"Sure. Thank you."

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><p>When Carter woke up, the first thought he had was that for once in weeks, he had awoken without his heart racing and sweat pouring down his face despite the goose bumps inevitably running up and down his arms and neck.<p>

He would need to ask Eva for that anti-nightmare potion more often.

Carter sat up, stretching out his sore limbs. He probably should've laid down in his bed and not on the couch, but it was too late for that epiphany now.

He looked over at the other sofa and saw Sophie sitting curled up, her head bent over a book with her blond bangs falling over her eyes. He would've said something to her, but he knew if he did then she would only probably walk away once she had responded. Sophie didn't like talking to people. Nobody really knew why, except maybe Eva, but if she knew, she sure wasn't telling.

Carter stood up wordlessly, grabbing his staff, and slowly made his way to the library. He had already wasted most of the day sleeping. The least he could do to appease the feeling of guilt that weighed on his chest would be to do something that might actually benefit his trainees, like researching new spells to teach them.

Not, he thought to himself, that his trainees weren't already almost beyond what he could teach them. Eva was the most natural Healer he had ever trained (at this point, she knew more about Healing than he did), and Michael knew everything Carter could possibly teach him about Necromancy.

Not to mention that Sophie was a Combat Magician. And heaven knew he couldn't show her anything much about Combat Magician with his disability. In fact, he should probably send Eva and Sophie to a different Nome, where they could learn more details about their chosen magic types, but he couldn't bring himself to send the girls away.

Carter sat down on a chair and studied the labels of the scrolls. _Herbs and Fungi With Spice_ might hold something to teach Eva. And _103 Ways to Scare the Sahlab Out of Your Foes_ might be a handy read for Sophie. He pulled on the latter one to get it out of the little cubby-hole-like slot it was stored in.

And then he felt a slight rumble, like somebody was pushing something heavy nearby him. Carter grabbed his staff and stumbled back, leaning against the bookshelf behind him, his heart hammering against his ribcage as the rumbling grew louder. He watched as the bookshelf began to shake slightly, as if somebody on the other side were jiggling it.

Abruptly, with no warning or even slowing of the tremors, it stopped. No more shaking. No more rumbling noise. Dust that had been shaken off the top of the shelf floated down around him, but other than that there was no movement whatsoever, and certainly not from him.  
>Carter forced himself into a standing position, warily watching the shelf. In all his time at Brooklyn House (most of which, coincidentally, was spent in the library), he had never experienced anything like this.<p>

And then there was a creaking sound that seemed to come from the earth itself, though it wasn't nearly as loud as the rumbling had been. As Carter watched in disbelief, cracks appeared in the bookshelf. But the shelf wasn't broken - the cracks were too perfectly straight and parallel... Like a door.

The creaking stopped, finally, and Carter stood before a gaping hole in the bookshelf, with stairs leading in a downward direction attached to a narrow stoop.

"Well," he whispered hoarsely to himself. "There's one way to scare the sahlab out of your foes."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Helloooo. Here's an update of The Hidden Chronicles! (Because I keep putting off updating Love In The Most Unlikely Places...) Enjoy!  
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**Disclaimer: Me no own TKC. Damn, I wish I did...**

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><p>Carter would never know exactly why he did it. After all, while hundreds of suspense movies manufactured by Hollywood may claim otherwise, it is hardly a good idea to go down the creepy staircase to who-knows-where, with only a long, wooden stick to protect you.<p>

However, though the logical part of his brain (which was the majority of it) was screaming at him to go get Bast rather than walk down there alone, the other part of his brain won. That is, the part of his brain that was adventurous, brave, and consumed by undeniable curiosity towards everything he didn't know.

Or maybe it was simply the fact that after years of living what felt like the same day over and over again, suddenly here was something that might hold a little...excitement.  
>Carter wasn't proud of it. He thought, even as he slowly brought his feet forward and descended the staircase, that it wasn't like him. This was something Sadie would do, not Carter.<p>

As soon as he thought that, there was no going back. So what if he only had use of one leg? So what if he was only teacher to three trainees rather than the solid 50 he had been training ten years ago? So what if he wasn't the reckless one?

With all this running through his mind, he almost missed a step on the staircase, which had begun to turn in a spiral shape. To his surprise, the wood it was made of was sturdy and strong, not rotting and decayed. Granted, they were covered in a fine layer of dust, but that was only to be expected.

Mounted on the walls, Carter could discern - by the light that filtered down from the library - holders for torches, with sticks of wood already in them. He almost laughed when he saw them; this was all seeming more and more like something from a one of the old black-and-white movies he watched with Eva, Sophie, and Michael on Saturday nights.

Carter focusing his gaze on one of the torches and whispered, "A'max."

A hieroglyph burned in the air before it disappeared, leaving a lit torch behind, the fire crackling dangerously and making the air surrounding it seem blurred. Carter repeated this process several times on each of the torches, there being six in all. Each time a torch was lit, it illuminated a new space where Carter could walk without fear of what he couldn't see, in the shadows.

Finally, the staircase twisted one final time, and ended, the final step melding into the stone floor at the bottom.

Carter's eyes did a sweep of the room, widening slowly as his brain absorbed what he was seeing.

A mini library. The entire back wall was one large bookshelf of cubby holes, stuffed with scrolls and papyrus sheets. On the right corner was a desk, made of wood that could've very well been drift wood found on a beach.

But it was what was in the middle of the tiny, cramped room that attracted Carter's attention most.

A pedestal, like one you might see in a museum, complete with a glass case over the top of it, so as to protect whatever treasure lay beneath. It was plain, and simple, rising only about four feet off the ground, but quite strong-looking. Carter had almost no doubt that it was charmed and set with probably dozens of booby-traps, should some unsuspecting magician decide to have a look at whatever was there.

Speaking of which...

Carter took a hesitant step forward, carefully studying each floor stone before he shifted his weight onto it, his staff held firmly in his right hand to steady him. He had seen enough Indiana Jones movies to know that anything could be trapped. Especially when you were an Egyptian magician, which Indiana Jones wasn't even.

Well, as far as Carter knew.

Carter came to a stop after taking three steps. As mentioned before, it was a small room.

He peered closely at the glass, but his eyes couldn't make out exactly what was underneath. It was as if the glass was layered with something more than dust; like a layer of magic to keep whatever was there from view.

Carter quickly gave up on the pedestal, and instead turned to the bookshelf. Upon closer

inspection, he noted that the papyrus scrolls were so old that the pages were all completely yellow, and nearly crumbling to dust. He didn't touch them.

He was about to have a look at the desk when he heard a sound that chilled his blood. The terrified shriek of a girl.

Carter lurched into movement, his staff working as a leg as he propelled himself back up the staircase, and back up into the library. It was almost as if he had shifted back from medieval ages to modern day.

He could hear shouts from the Great Room as he rushed towards it, flinging open to library doors and stepping through.

He quickly assessed the scene. Sophie, her back against the wall, her eyes wide, her face filled with more emotion than he had ever seen it. Michael, his staff in his hand, his eyes hard, glaring at the third person.

A figure clad in black magician robes, with a black hood to cover their face. If he didn't know any better, Carter would have thought the person was a ninja.

"Carter," Michael said, keeping his gaze locked on the person in black, who, when she moved, it became clear was a woman.

"Michael," Carter called calmly. He took a step forward. "Michael, go stand by Sophie."  
>Michael's attention flitted to Carter, his eyebrows raised in incredulity. Carter knew why, of course, but the knowledge did nothing to ease the sting. Michael was looking at his leg. Carter felt a surge of anger pulse through him.<p>

"Michael. I said go stand by Sophie." His voice held a challenge, underneath the calm.

Michael hesitated, before warily retreating backwards and standing in front of Sophie, guarding her.

"Who are you?" Carter asked the woman in black.

The first thing about her that struck him (other than the fact that she was standing in front of the broken glass doors to a terrace, apparently having broken through their magical defenses and come in) was how graceful she was. She held her head high, and stood straight. In her right hand, she held a carved ivory wand.

"Who are you?" Carter repeated. "And what exactly do you want from your good hosts here at Brooklyn House?" He added, sarcastically.

The woman didn't speak. Instead, she glanced at Michael, and then looked back at Carter. Her shoulders slumped slightly, as if in resignation. He took this as a good sign. She knew she couldn't overpower them both.

Suddenly, in a blur of black, the woman spun and charged back the way she had come, leaping off the terrace. Sophie screamed again, and Carter blinked hard. Had she really just thrown herself off of a six story high ledge?

Michael moved first, right out, and looked over the edge, down onto the street of New York City.

When he looked back at Carter, his eyes held a million questions, none of which Carter had an answer to. "She's gone."

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><p>"I don't understand, Carter," Eva said shakily, for the millionth time. Carter sighed, kneading his forehead with his hands. He felt a headache coming on.<p>

"Eva, I told you: I have absolutely no idea who that person was, what they wanted, or where they came from," Carter told her. "What I do know is that we're spending the rest of today doubling our defenses here at Brooklyn House. There are some spells-"

"We don't need spells, Carter," Michael said, setting his coffee cup down on the table and leaning back in his chair. "What we need is some answers. I know we don't have any right now, but we need them."

"I agree, Michael," Carter said tiredly. "But there's no way to get them, unless you happened to have gotten the woman's phone number while she was here."

Michael's jaw clenched, and Carter could tell he was biting back a retort. Michael seemed to be doing that a lot lately; challenging Carter and his authority, that is.

"Carter's right, of course," Eva piped up, oblivious to Michael's disdain for Carter's strategy.

"We need to protect ourselves in case the person comes back."

"Thank you, Eva," Carter said. Eva gave him a quick smile before she looked over at her twin.  
>Sophie had her arms wrapped around her stomach, hugging herself, an untouched mug of hot chocolate becoming cold on the table in front of her. Her bangs hid her eyes, as always. She hadn't spoken once since the incident, two hours ago.<p>

"What do you say, Soph?" Eva asked gently. The other girl looked up and gave a quick shrug.

"What about Bast?" Carter asked Michael. "Where exactly did she say she was going?"

Michael shrugged moodily. "She didn't specify. Not that she usually does. She just said she would be back soon, and told us not to blow anything up while she was gone."

"Good thing she said nothing about letting the glass doors break," Carter joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension. Nobody laughed.

"Alright, then," Carter sighed, hoisting himself up. "Let's get to work with those protection spells, guys."

Carter flashed his trainees a reassuring smile that none of them returned, until Eva did, evidently taking pity on him.

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><p>"N'dah," Carter said. A hieroglyph shimmered before disappearing as he moved on to the next window.<p>

He and the trainees had been doing this all over Brooklyn House for almost half an hour. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat from performing so much magic without taking a break.

"Carter," a quiet voice from behind him said suddenly. He jumped a bit, turning around.

"Sophie," he acknowledged the girl, hoping that the surprise he felt at her speaking wasn't completely obvious.

She shuffled her feet awkwardly, opening and closing her mouth several times, like she couldn't decide what to say. Carter waited patiently.

He noted that her face was pale, and her eyes drooped with fatigue. He felt a pang of guilt at having not suggested they take a break. While he and Michael may have higher tolerances for doing magic, Eva and Sophie did not.

Finally, then, she spoke. "Eva needs rest."

He nodded quickly. "Okay. Tell her to go ahead and rest. You should, too," he added.

"Thanks," Sophie mumbled. She turned to walk away, when he stopped her.

"Wait, Sophie!" Carter said, a thought striking him. He felt like an idiot for not having thought of it before.

She paused and looked at him expectantly.

"Did you notice anything in particular about the woman?" Carter asked carefully.

Sophie leaned against the wall with a slight sigh, closing her eyes. Carter could tell she was picturing the scene in her mind's eye.

"Something like a hair color, or eye color...?" he prompted.

She opened her eyes reluctantly. "Sorry. I don't think..."

His heart sank, until suddenly Sophie said, "No... Wait. There was something..."

"What?" Carter asked eagerly.

"A necklace. Silver. Pretty small. I noticed it when she left..."

Carter noticed that her hand trembled slightly as she pushed a piece of hair out of her eyes.

"Sophie," he told her quietly. "She's not coming back."

She looked startled. "I... I-y-yeah, okay."

She turned and hurried away, leaving Carter watching her retreating figure with a mixture of remorse and guilt.

With a sigh, he turned back to his work. He approached the place where the woman had broken in from. They had cleaned up the glass shards and mended the door. Now all it needed was a protection spell.

"N'dah," Carter said. The glyph worked it's magic. (Pun intended.)

He turned, deciding to take a break with the trainees, when he felt his foot connect with something other than the floor.

Carter winced and looked down, rubbing his foot where something had jabbed him. He stooped down and picked up something shiny and silver.

As he held it up to the sunlight coming through the window, to see it better, like maybe what he thought he was seeing was something else, he felt his jaw and face go slack with disbelief.

Because it was exactly what it looked like.

A little silver charm, like one that belonged in a bracelet but was on a chain for a necklace instead, dangled in the air, the light reflecting off of it nicely.

On one side was carved the Arabic word for "love": حـب

And on the other side was: "Carter & Zia"

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><p>Carter spent that night in the hallway. Lying in a sleeping bag, his staff and wand right where he could grab them if he needed to.<p>

This time, he thought with some satisfaction, I'll be there the second they need me.  
>Somewhat comforted by this, he set his head down on his pillow and rested, never quite falling asleep, always halfway awake in case he was needed.<p>

His hand stayed in his pocket the whole night through, turning the necklace around in his finger over and over again, feeling every curve of it like old memories brought back to the surface of his mind.

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><p><em>"Happy birthday, love," Carter murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead. She smiled at him, her arms wrapped around his neck. <em>

_"Thank you, Carter," she said._

_"I have something for you," he added, pulling back and reaching into the pocket of his jeans. _

_"Carter, you don't have to," she protested. He rolled his eyes and pulled out a little velvet box. He handed it to her with a flourish. She smiled at him one more time before gently prying it open. _

_"Oh, Carter..."_

_"Do you like it?" He asked, slightly nervously. Maybe Jaz was wrong, and Zia didn't like things like jewelry for her birthday..._

_"It's beautiful," she said gratefully, pulling it out. She undid the clasp of the chain and reached back to put the necklace on, but he was already behind her. _

_"Let me do that," he told her, taking the chain from her and carefully re-clasping it. _

_"Thank you, Cart," she whispered, touching it lightly._

_"Happy birthday, Zia," he returned._

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><p>Carter sat up quickly, though his body protested, begging to lay back down and slip back into the dream. He refused, instead reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He leaned his head back against the wall, biting his lip.<p>

_Zia... _**  
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><p><strong>AN: HA. :P 2,481 words in Pages. Hope you enjoyed, and please, remember to leave a review!  
>- Hyper<strong>


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Dream Out Loud 18, who won second prize in my Zarter/Demi Lovato songfic contest. Congratulations, Dream! **

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><p>Carter awoke to the refreshing sound of laughter, emanating from down in the Great Room. He sat up, groaning as he unfolded his sore limbs and stretched, reaching his arms skyward. For a moment he just sat there on the floor and his eyelids closed until he forced himself to stand, leaning against the wall for support until he could grab his staff, and shake off his drowsiness. Based on how much time seemed to have passed last night since he woke up from his dream about Zia, and past experiences, he guessed that he had managed to fall asleep around 3:00 A.M. This was not unusual, but that didn't mean he didn't still feel the need for coffee. Preferably black coffee.<p>

Before Carter went down to the Great Room to find out what was causing the laughter and general sounds of happiness, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the necklace. He was almost surprised when he found it. A small part of him had almost hoped that the necklace had only been a dream as well, but since his luck just sucked, the charm he held in his hand was undoubtably real.

Carter hesitated to put it back in his pocket. Somehow he felt that it wasn't safe enough. His fingers fumbled to undo the clasp but he managed to separate it. He reached back and, after five frustrating minutes, closed it again. The charm settled under his shirt, hiding from view, much to his satisfaction. Carter didn't need the trainees asking questions that would be too painful to answer.

He made his way down the staircase and stopped at the bottom. He smiled when he saw what was going on, amused.

Eva was holding a box of Cheerios and tossing them to a certain baboon who darted around snatching them up in his mouth.

It was surprising how spry Khufu was even in his old age, but maybe Thoth or Amos had put a spell on him to keep him youthful as repayment for all he had done for the magicians. All Carter knew was that even more than ten years after Carter had first come to the 21 Nome, Khufu was still alive and kicking.

While Eva, who was having a fit of giggling, played this game with Khufu, Sophie watched. A small smile graced her face, and Carter couldn't help but notice how much of an improvement it made on her. He could name all the times he had seen her smile, it was such a rare event.

Michael was standing in the corner with his arms crossed. He looked torn between disapproving and amusement. When he spotted Carter, though, the small grin melted off his face, replaced with a scowl. Carter was taken aback by the hardness in the young man's expression.

"Good morning, Carter!" Eva chirped, interrupting his troubled thoughts with her cheerful face. Her cheeks were red and her eyes bright from laughter. Her blond hair was slipping out of it's ponytail due to her bouncing up and down.

"Morning, Evvie," Carter returned. "Morning, Sophie. Michael." He nodded in Michael's direction. Michael ignored it.

Carter got himself a mug of coffee that sloshed with black liquid as he walked back into the Great Room and flopped down on the sofa. The drink warmed him down to his toes and gave him an illusion of safety for the time being. No mysterious people breaking into Brooklyn House, no secret libraries he never to show Bast, no heartbreaking dreams about his old girlfriend...

"What's the game plan today?" Michael asked quietly. It was clear that the question pained him, judging by the grimace plastered on his face. Or maybe it was just the act of speaking to Carter in general. Carter wasn't sure, but it confused him. He wondered what had brought on Michael's newfound disdain for him.

"Umm..." Carter wasn't sure what Michael meant. He hadn't thought to plan out a "game plan". His plan had been to just wing it and make sure not to let anybody else who tried to break in get away. And maybe to inspect that hidden library some more. But he couldn't tell them that.

Carter had decided not to tell the trainees about the secret library. At least...not yet. Not when there was already so much stress on their shoulders. Besides, he thought, Michael had been acting odd lately. Carter wasn't quite sure if he trusted him with that information, and if he told Eva then she would just tell Michael anyway. The only people Carter thought he might be able to trust were Sophie and Bast, but Bast was away and Carter just didn't want to put the weight of a secret on Sophie's shoulders.

Michael sighed impatiently. "I mean, what are we doing about the mansion now that we know it's not safe?"

"It _is_ safe," Carter reminded him. "We put all those protection spells on it yesterda-"

"Oh please. There were protections spells" Michael sneered, "all over the mansion already, but somebody managed to get in anyway, didn't they?"

Carter arched an eyebrow at the 18-year-old. "Michael, what is _wrong_ with you lately? You've been acting so...strange. Are you alright?" He peered at Michael with concern, but Michael just scowled back at him.

"Nothing's wrong. Well, nothing's wrong with _me_..." Michael trailed off with a smirk in Carter's direction. That was it.

Carter stood up, all of his weight on his right leg so he didn't need his staff until his working leg got tired. "Excuse me?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "Come on, Carter. You know you can't keep being leader of Brooklyn House. Not in _your_ condition."

The words were like smacks to Carter's face. His blood roared in his ears and he fought to keep his anger under control, but he failed.

"My condition?" he repeated, seething. Rage was evident on the hard set of his face, the tense posture of his shoulders, his clenched fists like dumbbells at his sides.

"Surely you've noticed that you can only move one leg," Michael said in a low voice, as if confiding a secret.

"But I'm still alive, aren't I?" Carter demanded, gesturing to himself. "And as long as I am alive, I intend to be leader of Brooklyn House."

"Carter," Michael began. There was almost a hint of pleading in his voice as he continued, "Come on. You aren't the teenage hero anymore. You're just a man trying to cling to his position so he can remember the glory days."

"That's a lie," Carter snarled. His chest was rising and falling unnaturally quickly as his heart raced. He was in disbelief. Michael, the boy Carter had taught and mentored since he was ten years old, was saying these hurtful words? It was beyond belief.

"Is it?" Michael asked softly. "Carter, you can't even teach us right anymore. There's nothing left for you to teach us. Heck, you can't even teach Sophie combat magic right-"

"Don't drag me into this, Michael," Sophie mumbled. Carter looked over at her and saw her staring intently at the boy who had been like her older brother for two years.

Michael and Sophie had always had a strange relationship. When Sophie had first come to Brooklyn House with Eva, Michael was the only trainee there. He was delighted to finally have there be more trainees at Brooklyn House, so he naturally attempted to connect with them. Sophie had always been quiet, and the polar opposite of bubbly, cheerful Eva, who had been her only friend for her entire life. Michael, who could be both quietly thoughtful and cheerfully humorous had been a nice change. They developed a strong bond. Carter knew that Michael often confided in Sophie, although he doubted Sophie ever confided anything in anyone; even Eva.

"I will drag you into this!" Michael declared angrily. "It isn't just me, Michael-The-Jerk, who thinks Brooklyn House needs a new leader. You two are both just two scared to speak up and say you agree."

"Michael." Eva's voice trembled. "Please stop."

"I can't stop," Michael insisted. "Because this has gone on for too long. Yesterday Sophie almost got killed by somebody who broke in and then got away. What's next? Demons of Chaos attack Brooklyn House?"

"That won't happen," Carter disagreed immediately. "Sadie and I defeated Apophis and the demons of Chaos are gone."

"Yeah," Eva chimed in, unable to resist taking part in any conversation, "Sadie and Carter defeated the bad guys way before you even knew you were a magician, Michael. Stop acting like you're better than Carter."

"I'm a better fighter," Michael said. He grinned, but there was nothing amused or friendly about it. It was more like him baring his teeth, like a wolf cornering prey before it went in for the kill. "And if I need you fight you, Carter...which of us do you think is going to win?"

"Stop it!"

Three magicians turned to stare at the blond haired girl in shock. It was probably the first time Sophie had ever raised her voice out of anger, or at all, really. Her eyes were still fixed on Michael, and this time they were as hard and unforgiving as stone. Carter thought he saw a flicker of doubt on Michael's face, but it disappeared as soon as it came.

Sophie stood up and crossed the room. She laid an arm across her sister's shoulders and whispered hoarsely, "Just stop, okay?"

"Fine," Michael growled. "I'll stop, and when you people are all dead, don't expect me to attend your funerals."

"When's your funeral?" Sophie countered quietly. "Because you, Michael Stark, are dead to me."

Michael's face turned red with incredulous anger. With one last menacing growl, he stomped away, muttering incoherently, though Carter was fairly sure it was all insults.

"Soph," Eva said slowly, "That was awesome."

Sophie was looking after Michael sadly. The look on her face was so familiar, but Carter couldn't quite place it. At least, not until she responded in a voice barely audible: "No, Eva. That was certainly not awesome."

Heartbreak.

/*\*/*\

Over time, Carter had gotten accustomed to the various sounds of Brooklyn House: the sound of Eva skipping around everywhere she went, the sound of the door to Carter's bedroom creaking when it closed because Carter had never gotten around to fixing it, the sound of a kettle screaming when the water for Carter's coffee was boiling, et cetera. But there was one sound Carter hadn't heard in Brooklyn House for a long, long time.

The sound of somebody knocking on the front door.

Carter's eyes snapped open. He had been sitting on the couch with Eva and Sophie on either side of him, just thinking in silence. Eva was curled up with her head on Carter's shoulder and Sophie was leaned against a toss pillow. Her expression was deep in thought, and her eyes still held that heartbroken look that made Carter want to punch Michael all the way to Egypt and back.

Eva, meanwhile, looked like her entire world had just come crashing down around her feet. And, in her dramatic mind, it probably seemed like that.

But both Sophie and Eva grew more alert when they heard the sound. Sophie sat up and met Carter's gaze, the look in which matched her own surprise.

"Is that what I think it is?" Eva asked hesitantly.

Carter barely heard the question. He stood up and Eva quickly grabbed his arm to support him while he got his staff. She followed him to the doorway. Carter raised his hand, and the door followed the movement.

Standing behind it, waiting, was a young girl, about ten or eleven years old at most. Her lips were pale, like she was about to be sick, and her skin, the color of creamed coffee, was covered in scratches and bruises. A large gash streaked down the side of her face. Her hairline was sticky with blood and her hair itself was a tangled black mess. She wore a thin cotton shirt and a pair of jeans that had certainly seen better days.

But the most startling thing about her appearance was her eyes. They were wild and hesitant as they studied Carter and Eva, like a lioness trying to decide if they were enemies or allies. She did, in fact, have a distinctly lion-ish look about her; because her eyes, which were now trained directly on Carter, were the color of amber.

"Help me," she croaked. She stumbled forward on unsteady feet and Eva rushed towards her to support her. Eva wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and the other girl grimaced in pain.

Carter shook himself out of his frozen stupor and helped Eva support the girl, who practically wilted into their aid. They got her onto one of the couches in the Great Room. Sophie yelped with surprised when she saw them coming in, and quickly got out of her seat so they could lay the girl down on the couch.

The girl looked at their wearily through half-closed eyes before she mumbled something that sounded like "thank you" and promptly passed out.

/*\*/*\

In all the time Carter had known her, Eva had always been the sort of girl who went along with what somebody else told her to do, and she did it cheerfully. She was a follower.

So when Eva, after studying the new girl's wounds with a critical healer's eye, immediately knelt down by her side and began murmuring healing spells and commanding Sophie to bring her things from the infirmary, Carter was surprised, but he didn't oppose it.

"Alright, now," Eva said to the new girl (who had woken up at some point during Eva's inspection and was now remaining still while Eva took care of her, letting out only the occasional whimper and cry when Eva touched her shoulder) gently. "It looks like your arm is dislocated, and there's a lot of blood, too, but you'll be fine. But I'm going to need to get your arm back into place..." she looked back at Carter with a wince. He understood.

"Carter here - he's the head of Brooklyn House - is going to help me, alright?" she continued in soft voice, stroking the girl's hair. Carter was reminded so much of Jaz that it pained him.

"O-okay," the girl whispered. Eva motioned for Carter to come over and help. He bent down beside Eva, using his hand to bend his immobile leg. Eva showed him where to put his hands on the girl's shoulder. He tried to be gentle, but the girl's face still screwed up in pain. He saw her bite down on her lip hard.

"Hey, what's your name?" Eva asked casually. Carter noticed her hands slowly tense on the girl's arm, getting ready to snap it into place. He realized she was trying to distract the other girl so that the pain hurt less when Eva did it.

"N-nettie," the girl murmured. "I-it's short for A-amaune-_oww_!" Nettie glared accusingly at Eva, who shrugged innocently. The former was panting hard after her scream of pain, grimacing, but a with a look of slight relief on her face. She laid her head back on her pillow with a heavy sigh. "Thank you..."

"Anytime, Amaune!" Eva said cheerfully.

"Amaunet," the other girl corrected. "But, really, call me Nettie."

"I'm Eva," Eva introduced herself. "Eva Casper."

"Nice to meet you," Nettie said weakly.

"Sophie! Come here!" Eva called, waving wildly at her sister. Sophie moved from her spot on the other couch, where she had been burying her face in a pillow. She looked at Nettie with a slightly queasy look on her face.

"Hi," she mumbled.

"This is my twin sister, Sophie Casper," Eva said. "Sophie, this is Amaunet..." Eva gave Nettie a questioning look.

"Rashid," Nettie told them. "Amaunet Rashid."

And with those two little words, Carter felt like a truck had driven into him.

/*\*/*\ 

"Carter?" Sophie's voice came from the doorway of his bedroom. Carter cracked an eye and saw her standing there awkwardly, hugging herself. She wore a blue sweatshirt two sizes too big for her that read "GAP" across it in all capital orange letters, along with gray pajama pants and a pair of rainbow colored socks she probably stole from Eva.

For a moment, Carter was tempted to pretend he was still asleep, but that didn't feel fair to Sophie. Plus, somehow Sophie had always been much calmer than Eva and easier to talk to then Michael. In fact, if he admitted it to himself, she reminded him of...Zia.

"Hey," Carter greeted with a lame wave of his hand.

"Are you okay?" Sophie asked. She took a step forward into the room.

"Fine," Carter lied. Because, in truth, he was anything /but/ fine.

Rashid. Out of all the Arabic surnames in the world, the girl's name had to be /Rashid/. The only name that could make him need to lie and say he had a terrible headache and leave Eva and Sophie to show Nettie around Brooklyn House while he lay in his bedroom trying to ignore the dull ache in his heart.

"Are you?" Sophie squinted at him. He guessed it must be hard for her to make out where his face was in the exceedingly dim light of his bedroom. In fact, the only light in the entire room came from beyond the open door, in the hallway outside.

"...no," he admitted, sighing. He couldn't lie to Sophie. She was just too much like Zia. And he had never been able to lie to Zia, either, come to think of it. His mouth twisted into a bitter half-smile. He sat up and clicked on the lamp resting on his bedside table. Light flooded the room and both Carter and Sophie blinked until their eyes adjusted.

Sophie nodded, looking unsurprised. "Yeah, I thought so. Considering you randomly got an awful headache right after Nettie mentioned her last name."

Carter shrugged sheepishly.

"Rashid," Sophie said quietly. "That was her last name, wasn't it?"

"That's what Nettie said, isn't it?" Carter countered, wincing.

"I'm not talking about Nettie." Sophie locked eyes on Carter. "I mean...it was _her_ last name, right?"

So Sophie knew about Zia. Carter wasn't sure how, considering her never spoke about her, but he didn't question it.

"Yes," he confirmed softly. Sophie walked over and sat down on the edge of his bed. The look she gave her was less _sympathetic_...it was _empathetic_. Like she somehow understood all the pain that he felt.

"That sucks," Sophie said so bluntly Carter gave a snort, though he wasn't very amused. "Well, it's true."

"I know," Carter agreed. "But it's not like I can ask Nettie to change her last name, can I?"

"Technically, you could _ask_ her. But I don't think she would say yes..." the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. Carter felt a slight grin form on his face.

"I didn't know you had that good a sense of humor," he blurted out without thinking. Sophie's face darkened and she looked down at her sweatshirt. A long thread was coming loose from the seam. She picked at it.

"Yeah, well, not like I talk enough to show it," she admitted.

"Why not?" Carter asked. Sophie shrugged moodily, but something told him there was something she was holding back. Not that he was about to prod.

"Let's just say...every time I open my mouth, something bad happens," Sophie said.

"That's not true," Carter argued. "You told off Michael earlier. That meant a lot to me."

Sophie looked back up at him, and he saw that her blue eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. "That's exactly what I mean, Carter. Every time I open my mouth..." she trailed off.

"Soph," Carter began, but she cut him off.

"Forget it, Carter. Come on. Nettie, apparently, made dinner."

"She cooked dinner?" Carter blinked.

"Rice," Sophie confirmed. She gave Carter a half-smile and stood. She was halfway out the door when Carter stopped her.

"Sophie," he called. She paused and gave him a nod, signaling for him to go on. "I...I don't know what has gone on for you in the past," -her body went rigid- "but bad things don't always happen when you talk. In fact, some people even miss when you don't talk. I know for a fact that Eva does..."

"Eva," Sophie said in a slightly cold voice, "understands why I don't talk."

And with that, she was gone.

/*\*/*\

Sophie pressed her back to the wall, her hand over her mouth to stifle the sobs she felt coming on. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly to block the tears. Her shoulders shook.

She couldn't believe herself. She had come too close to telling him...everything. Far too close. If Carter ever found out...Sophie shuddered. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

Nobody could. Not Carter. Not Eva. Not that new girl, Nettie.

The only person who knew was Michael. Only Michael _could_ know. He was her best friend.

Her entire life, it had been like she was sheltering Eva, protecting her from all the bad things that surrounded them. They were friends, but they never shared the bond Sophie felt between herself and Michael.

Michael understood her. He understood her pain. He understood everything.

But that was all lost now. All of it. She had thrown it all away like it meant nothing. And for what? To protect Carter, just like she had always protected Eva?

No. Sophie was sick of being the defender - the guardian. The only person she could protect was Eva. Because Eva was so innocent, and young. And even though Sophie was the same age as her...she had seen more. She had dealt with more. She still had the scars from what she had guarded Eva from.

Sophie reached behind to her back, her fingers running over the familiar bump that ran the length of the spot just below her neck. A painful reminder of what the twins had left behind in the slums when they reached Brooklyn House.

Or, more correctly: what Sophie escaped and Eva was protected from.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ... What? It's not a cliffy, it's just a secret to be revealed later on. **

**...MEH. **

**- Hyper **


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: So...yup. Here's an update. **

* * *

><p>Steam rose from the pot in long, warm tendrils that carried the familiar scent of butter and salt and teased Nettie's nose. She felt her stomach growl.<p>

Nettie stood on her tiptoes to turn off the burner on the stove. With hands protected by thick oven mitts, she then carefully grasped the handle of the pot and placed her other hand under the pot to keep it steady while she carried it over to the small table located nearby and set it down. Eva, who was already seated at the table, watched Nettie's movements with awe. Nettie had noticed that Eva had a very childlike personality that made her seem in awe of almost everything. It was rather endearing.

"Where did you learn how to cook?" she asked. Nettie had also noticed that Eva asked a lot of questions. This, while also sort of endearing, might prove to be a problem later on, when she started asking questions Nettie wouldn't be able to answer...

"My Uncle Umar taught me," she replied. "But I really only know how to make rice. We ate rice almost every night."

Eva wrinkled her nose. "That must have gotten boring after a while."

"No," Nettie countered. "It was rather sort of comforting. Having something stay the same no matter what. Even if money was scarce, we always knew we could afford rice."

"Oh," was all Eva said.

Luckily, Eva's twin, Sophie, walked in at that moment, saving the girls from an awkward silence. Eva immediately stood up and went over to her sister's side, whispering something in low, hissing tones. Sophie nodded and replied in a louder voice so Nettie could hear,  
>"Carter's fine. Just a headache."<p>

Eva nodded, though she looked unsatisfied with this answer. "But why didn't he ask me to treat him?" she asked, whining. "I have a million things I could give him for a headache."

Sophie just shrugged and took a seat at the table. Eva followed reluctantly.

"Will Carter be joining us?" Nettie inquired as she walked over to the cabinet suspended above the sink to get bowls.

"I think so," Sophie answered. Nettie nodded and stood on her tiptoes to reach down four bowls. She wished, with some irritation, that everything in this kitchen weren't so high up.

Carter made his appearance right when the table was finished being set. His eyes had dark bags under them from lack of sleep and were fixed on Nettie. She shifted uncomfortably and kept her gaze averted from his, and instead focused on spooning out rice into the bowls.

After the awkward choruses of "thank you"s, silence descended on the table while they ate. Nettie took the opportunity of, for the first time during her arrival at the 21st Nome, not having to answer incessant questions from Eva, to mull over all the events of the past two days.

/*\*/*\

[Flashback]

_Uncle Umar shifted restlessly in his seat beside Nettie in the back of the taxi. The windows were shut tight, blocking out the noise and sounds and smells of the market they were passing through. Nettie usually loved going through a market and looking at all the booths and various peoples that populated it, but she knew that something was different this time so she contented herself with pressing her nose to the window and staring out longingly._

_"Uncle Umar," Nettie began, but was quickly cut off by her companion._

_"I am not your uncle, Amaunet," he reminded her sharply. "I am your mother's cousin."_

_"Yes," Nettie replied impatiently. "But it's so hard to say "Mother's Cousin Umar"."_

_Umar did not smile and ruffle her hair like he usually would have. Instead, he sighed heavily and gestured for her to go on, though from the resigned look on his face he already suspected what she was going to ask._

_"Where are we going?" she said timidly. This question had been nagging at her all day. Ever since that morning, when Umar had woken her up in a panic and told her to pack as quickly as possible, because they needed to leave._

_"Leave?" Nettie had repeated, shocked. "Leave where?"_

_Umar had not answered. Within ten minutes, Nettie and Umar had packed their few belongings and were settled into a taxi. Umar had whispered furiously to the driver for a moment, and brandishing his wallet had pulled out what might've been a fortune in Egyptian Pounds. Both Nettie's and the taxi driver's eyes had widened. Before they had known it, they had been speeding along the road, leaving a cloud of sand and dust behind them._

_Now, Umar reached up and rubbed the temples of his hairless head. Nettie guessed that he had another headache. Umar seemed to always have a headache. Nettie knew that she should leave him be and stop asking questions, but some previously dormant stubborn-ness refused to allow that option._

_"Please tell me," Nettie begged. "I deserve to know."_

_"Indeed you do," Umar agreed grudgingly. "But it's for your own good that you do not know."_

_"For my own good," Nettie repeated in disbelief. She nodded stiffly and looked down at her lap. Her hands, hidden behind her back, were curled into tight fists._

/*\*/*\

[Flashforward]

"Nettie?" A small hand waved in front of Nettie's eyes and she quickly snapped to attention. She realized that both Eva and Carter were staring at her with concern etched on their faces. Her bowl of rice sat in front of her, untouched and getting cold. Mechanically, she grabbed her spoon and forced a pile of the stuff into her mouth. It caught in her throat when she tried to swallow.

"Are you okay?" Carter asked. He seemed uncomfortable; wary. His eyes were unnerving. Something about him in general, actually, was unnerving. Nettie couldn't shake the feeling that he was somebody very important. Even more important than being head of the 21st Nome.

"Fine," Nettie mumbled. Carter nodded and there was silence once more. Nettie continued trying to choke down the rice, but when the struggle became too much, she set aside her spoon and just stared down at the wood grains on table, losing herself in memories once more.

/*\*/*\

[Flashback]

_"A plane?" Nettie said, disbelief coloring her voice. Umar nodded. He glanced around the small, Egyptian airport distractedly. He had been like this all day - acting as if he thought they were bering followed, though by whom or what Nettie had no idea._

_Umar's hand was clammy as it clutched at Nettie's upper arm and began dragging her through the crowds of tourists and several merchants who were trying to sell their wares without being caught by security. Nettie yelped in pain as the man's nails, which were surprisingly long for a male's, dug into her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt._

_Umar dug around in his messenger pouch and produced two slips of paper which Nettie guessed were plane tickets. She wondered when he had had the time, or money, to purchase plane tickets, but she didn't dare ask. Her mind raced a mile a minute and she almost forgot to watch where she was going as she almost ran over a boy who couldn't have been older than her. She watched in horror as he shot her a dirty look and then, walking up to a tourist woman, slipped his hand into the pocket of her shorts and extracted her wallet like a professional._

_But Nettie had no time to dwell on this scene, as Umar gave her a little shake and hissed in her ear, "Pay attention. I can't afford to lose you right now."_

_"Fine," she muttered back. She tried to ignore the over-all sensation of dread, which began in her stomach and was now making it's way up to her head and down to her feet. She tripped and stumbled her way behind Umar, wishing that he would slow down or at least let go of her arm, which she was fairly sure he was cutting off all blood circulation in._

_"Where are we going, Cousin Umar?" Nettie demanded when she finally was unable to stand it any longer._

_Umar froze suddenly. He stooped down to her height and peered right into her eyes. Nettie swallowed nervously. Right now, he did not look like the friendly and cheerful man who had raised her. He did not look like the man who had laughed at - and then comforted with promises of keeping her safe - her when she begged him to tell her scary stories and then crawled under her bedsheets and whimpered when he complied. He did not look like the man who had doted upon her every day of her life for as long as she could remember._

_He looked like a man who had lost his mind._

_"We are going where your mother told me to take you little more than ten years ago," Umar whispered._

_"My...my mother?" Nettie's voice cracked on the word. Her bottom lip trembled as all her fear and confusion roared at her like river rapids trying to break down a weak dam._

_Umar didn't respond verbally, but the look on his face was enough to make her heart nearly stop._

/*\*/*\

[Flashforward]

_"America," Nettie said in wonder as she gazed out the grimy windows of the taxi cab. New York City sped by outside, in all it's splendor. To Nettie, the skyscrapers were like giant foreign beings from a fairy tale. But the throngs of people that crowded the sidewalks and the noisy car horns were not completely unfamiliar to her. She had seen plenty of that back home in Egypt._

_"Yes, Nettie," Umar confirmed. He shifted in his seat, much like he had done in the taxi back in Egypt. His back must be acting up again._

_Umar was a short man of 48 years of age, and he looked it, too. His head was completely devoid of the abundant hair he assured her he used to have, and his skin was tan, leathery, and beginning to wrinkle. He wasn't the most striking of men, but Nettie had always thought there was something handsome about him when he smiled._

_But now he was scowling at the back of the driver's seat in such a way that made Nettie shrink away from him fearfully._

_"Can't you drive any faster?" he barked at the driver, who gave an irritated grunt._

_"Sure, buddy. Want me to call my private jet to airlift us out of the traffic and fly us all the way to Brooklyn?"_

_"That would be wonderful," Umar shot back. The cabbie just rolled his eyes and snorted. Umar sighed._

/*\*/*\

_Nettie was jolted awake when the cab suddenly froze, the cab driver slamming his foot onto the breaks. She lifted her head and looked around blearily trying to get her bearings. She heard the cabbie swear loudly and Umar shouting over him, "What's going on?"_

_It was then that Nettie saw it, outside the window of the taxi. It was large and rather long, with what looked like jagged spikes jutting out of its back. Its body looked almost panther-like, with shoulders that were pushed up and a long tail swishing behind it. But its head resembled a crocodile or some such serpentine creature. The entire animal was a sickly shade of green._

_And it's face was right up at Nettie's window, baring it's teeth and snarling at her. She gave a little scream and launched backwards against Umar, scrabbling to get as far away from the thing outside as possible._

_"Out of the car!" She heard Umar shout at her, but she barely understood the words. Blood roared in her ears. She heard the car door open and felt herself be pushed out. She hit the ground with a thump that knocked the breath out of her. Nettie barely had time to recover before she was hauled to her feet by somebody and dragged away from the taxi._

_She watched as Umar reached into his messenger pouch and pulled out something like a knife. He turned back and locked eyes with Nettie._

_"Brooklyn House!" he shouted at her. "Go to Brooklyn House. You'll be safe there."_

_"Uncle Uma-" Nettie was cut off by her own shriek, which burbled out of her throat as the man who raised her leaped over the taxi and attacked the monster with his knife._

/*\*/*\

_Nettie's feet crashed on the pavement as she took off running. Her chest pounded and her heart felt like it might burst. It was all she could do to keep running._

_Right, left, right, left..._

_She couldn't take it anymore. She collapsed, tripping falling forward and falling flat on her stomach. Her cheek slammed into the pavement and the resounding pain that blew through her arm was enough to make her give a strangled scream, and made her sure that she probably in need of medical help, but she was too weak to move. Plus she was reluctant to disobey what might very well have been Umar's dying wish..._

_Nettie choked on a sob. She curled into a little ball there on the sidewalk, nestled between an abandoned cardboard box and the hard, cold brick wall of an apartment building. She brought her knees up to her chin and buried her face in her hands, prepared to treat herself to the luxury of a good cry. Yet no tears came._

_"Brooklyn House," she thought bitterly. "Lovely, Uncle Umar. I don't even know where Brooklyn _is_."_

_In that manner, Nettie spent what felt like a lifetime but was probably only an hour curled up on the ground. She felt like everything she had ever cared about had come to an end._

_Finally, though, she felt a warm, soft hand gently touch her arm, followed by a voice whispering, "Are you alright?"_

_Nettie slowly opened her eyes, which she had squeezed shut. Before her was a tall woman, crouching down beside her. She had long black hair piled up in a bun on top of her head, and kind eyes that were a strange yellow-ish color. Wrapped around her shoulders was a furry, leopard-print coat. She looked down at Nettie with a look that was a mixture of concern and confusion._

_"I..." Nettie's voice cracked and the woman stroked her hair soothingly._

_"It's alright, there, dear," she crooned. "I can help you."_

_"Brooklyn," Nettie managed. "I-I'm supposed to go to Brooklyn."_

_The woman's eyes widened for a split second before she nodded and stood up. She held out a hand wearing a black leather glove. Nettie stared at it for a minute before she reached up her own hand and slipped it into the woman's. She hauled the girl to her feet, and Nettie whimpered at the pain that shot through her arm. The woman noticed and clucked._

_"Dislocated your shoulder," she murmured. Nettie was not sure if she was talking to herself or her, so she made no reply._

_"Brooklyn House," Nettie said instead. The woman raised her eyebrows._

_"But of course, dear," she said. A smile graced her face and, without another word, she took off walking so fast that Nettie almost had to jog to keep up, which was quite painful considering her dislocated shoulder._

_"You know about Brooklyn House?" Nettie asked._

_"Of course I do, dear," the woman replied. "I do, after all, live there."_

_"You live there?" Nettie repeated. A million questions swam through her head but the only one she could think to ask was, "What is your name?"_

_The woman answered, "I am Bast."_

_"Bast? Like...the Egyptian goddess?" Nettie recalled. Bast nodded, looking pleased._

_"Indeed. Please, now, no more questions. They'll answer all your questions at Brooklyn House."_

_Nettie felt a headache coming on and she stopped. Bast paused and turned back, lifting an inquiring eyebrow. "No," Nettie said in what she hoped was a strong voice. "I am not going anywhere until I get answers."_

_Bast sighed. "You are as stubborn as your father, Amaunet."_

_"My father?" Nettie's eyes widened and Bast cursed under her breath._

_"I shouldn't have said that," she said blandly._

_"You knew my father?" Nettie demanded. "What about my mother? Did you know her, as well?"_

_"Amaunet," Bast said pleadingly. "Please, just follow me to Brooklyn House and I'll answer all of your questions-"_

_"No!" Nettie shouted. She started backing away, tripping over her own feet. "I'm not going anywhere. I. Want. Answers."_

_"As stubborn as your father and your aunt combined," Bast grumbled._

_"I have an aunt?" Nettie blinked. "What is her name? Is she still alive?"_

_Bast cringed. "Amaunet, please trust me. I swear to you that I will give you answers when we get to Brooklyn House. Which we must do as fast as possible. I understand that you want answers, but there are more important things at the moment. For instance, making sure you survive the day."_

_"Survive the day?" Nettie squeaked. Bast nodded. Nettie chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment before she sighed. "Well...I...oh, fine."_

_Bast smiled brightly._

/*\*/*\

_"...somehow I thought it would be...a house," Nettie admitted as she stared at the warehouse in front of her. She wondered if perhaps Bast had taken her to the wrong Brooklyn House. Maybe there were more than one. Or maybe, Nettie thought with horror, she had misheard Umar. Maybe he hadn't said Brooklyn House at all. Maybe-_

_"Oh, this is just a glamour, dear," Bast chuckled. "Turn slightly, now- yes, like that. Look at it now, out of the corner of your eye."_

_Nettie did as she was told, though it didn't help her headache to mess with her eyes. Her jaw dropped open an inch._

_"Oh my..." she gawked and moved to look at it head-on, but the mansion she had scene disappeared when she did. The glamour, she guessed, as Bast had said._

_"Yes, it's rather impressive, though not nearly as large as the one in Egypt," Bast was saying. Nettie blinked and looked at her._

_"There is one of these," -she gestured to Brooklyn House- "in Egypt?"_

_"There's one almost everywhere, Amaunet." Bast sounded amused, as if she had had this conversation many times before._

_Before Nettie had time to process this information, though, a bright orange cat suddenly streaked into view. It sat down at Bast's feet and gazed up at her. Bast met it's gaze and for a solid 90 seconds, they stared at each other. Just when Nettie began to get uncomfortable, Bast gave a short nod and the cat turned and sped away._

_"...what was that?" Nettie asked._

_"A message," Bast said quickly. Her yellow eyes were wide and had a rather frantic look in them. "I must go."_

_"Go?" Nettie felt her heart fall. "Why? You promise you would-"_

_"I know what I promised, but this is urgent," Bast interrupted. "Go up to Brooklyn House and knock on the door. Ask them to help you, alright? They will."_

_"But-"_

_"Go, Amaunet! You'll be safe with them."_

_And before Nettie's eyes, Bast began to shrink and morph until she had turned into..._

_"My god," Nettie mumbled. "You. Are a cat."_

_Bast the Cat gave a small nod and what might have been a smile before she turned and ran off in the same direction the other cat had gone, leaving Nettie alone to face Brooklyn House by herself._

_"Well, Amaunet Rashid," she said, trying to boost her courage. "Time to prove that you aren't as big a coward as you think you are."_

/*\*/*\

"Well, Nettie," Carter's voice came, interrupting her reminiscing. "I suppose now might be a good time for us to get to what we all want to. Explanations."

"Yes," Nettie agreed, wondering if Carter had somehow read her mind. Considering what she had been through the past two days, that wouldn't have completely surprised her.

"Why don't you begin?" Carter suggested, sitting back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

Nettie nodded slowly. "Alright. Well, it started yesterday..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I really, really hate this chapter. I feel like it was really poorly written, but an update was long overdue, so... Hope it wasn't too bad :\ Now that I've got the flashbacks down, and Nettie's whole history is down, I'll get onto the exciting stuff.**


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